The Begining
by ineresting-thot
Summary: My take on what might have happened when Dr. Broom first meets Abe Sapien and the beginnings of his life at the Bureau. Hopefully more to come! Chapter 3 is up! Please R&R :)
1. Discovery

  
  
Disclaimer:  
  
I don't own any of the characters in this story, and can't even attest to the accuracy of their portrayal, I just like to have fun with them! They all belong to Mike Mignola, the brilliant man he is!

* * *

The Begining  
  
As consciousness slowly returned to him, he felt an immediate sense of dread. The only reason _they_ let him regain consciousness was when _they_ wanted to run more tests, which almost always entailed mass unpleasantness and/or boredom. And Drugs... he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be fully aware of the world through an un-foggy mind not befuddled by drugs making him easier to control. Almost? Actually.. He had.  
  
As he became more acutely aware of himself and his surroundings, a small water tank not even big enough to allow him space to stretch his arms out, he noticed differences in his very limited surroundings. Where were the scientists in their white lab coats carrying their needles and notepads? Why was it so dark? For a moment he thought maybe he'd gone blind, but he could see his hand in front of him, so that was ridiculous. He held up his hand to the glass of his confinement and used his mind to search for the reason he was awake. There _he_ was, just out of sight, fiddling with equipment that _he _realized _he_ had no idea how to operate. He sent his mind toward the unsuspecting man to try to determine who _he_ was, friend or foe, and what _his_ intentions were concerning him. He. Dr. Trevor Bruttenholm. Dr. Broom. Studies paranormal events and all things related.. Not a scientist? Interesting...  
  
He let his hand float back to his side, feeling unexpectedly tired and stiff, and took another look around the too-familiar laboratory. Dr. Broom had worked out how to turn on the light inside his tank, which helped to aluminate the surrounding room, and it was then he noticed the derelict state of the place. A thick coating of dust covered everything, test tubes and beakers were lying around, broken or upturned as a sign of a hasty retreat in a panicked situation. He let his gaze take in the entire room before returning to Dr. Broom, who was finished fiddling with the controls on the wall, and was now studying him very intently, though with a friendly and open look upon his face. Dr. Broom looked like anything but one of the totally withdrawn business-like scientists usually swarming around his tank If anything, he looked like a librarian or a historian.  
  
"Nothing, man, animal or otherwise should be kept in such small confines." He muttered to himself, "Now what are you, other then very interesting?"  
  
He gestured to the label attached to his tank, the movement startled Dr. Broom, who apparently wasn't expecting to be understood.  
  
"Ichthyo Sapien... sapien, are you sentient?" Dr. Broom muttered, half to himself, half to the being in the tank. "14 April 1885, that's the day Lincoln was shot, if I'm not mistaken, how curious. That, I expect is what resulted in your being called Abe. I was wondering about that."  
  
The reality of the current situation had begun to sink in and he started feeling slightly panicked. His life in the laboratory was anything but enjoying or stimulating, but it was all he knew, and now everything seemed to have changed, over night it seemed! Where were the scientists with their closed minds, they were not good company, but he knew them, and knew what they wanted. He didn't know what to do or how to react to this man, this Dr. Broom who studied the paranormal, what did he want with him anyway?  
  
Dr. Broom seemed to somehow pick up his anxiety, possibly due to his increased breathing rate, his pulling back to the back of the tank, which wasn't far away, or his sudden defensive poster. "Don't worry," he said softly, "I won't hurt you, Abe. Do you mind if I call you Abe?"  
  
A name? What would a glorified lab-rat need a name for? Names were a sign of freedom, which he did not possess. He shook his head ever so slightly as an answer to the question, this man could call him whatever he wished, it really didn't make a difference to him. He was still stuck in his tank unable to stretch or move and subject to whatever his captors decided would make for an interesting study.  
  
"Well Abe, how do you feel about being brought somewhere with a little more, shall we say, breathing space? When the Bureau got the call about 'a strange fish-creature' in a tank down in this recently discovered wing of the hospital, I looked into it right away, and here I am. I've set plans in motion for the building of a water tank at the B.P.R.D. which you may find more comfortable, if you would care to join us."  
  
Leave? Leave this lab, this tank, the only place he ever knew? Abe, he tried out his new name, could leave and go somewhere else? He'd dreamed to himself of leaving this stuffy laboratory and the needles and the tests, being free to just... swim around without a care in the world. But always thought the possibility of that happening were as likely as the possibility of him waking up one morning in his tank and drowning.  
  
"How rude of me," Dr. Broom said suddenly. "I haven't introduced myself. My name is"  
  
"Dr. Trevor Bruttenholm, but you go by Dr. Broom, it's less of a mouthful. You specialize in the area of the paranormal, and enjoy English breakfast tea." Abe blinked in amusement at the startled look on Dr. Broom's face, though he wasn't entirely sure he understood everything Abe had said. Glass tended to muddle things slightly.  
  
"I...You.." Dr. Broom stuttered, not at all sure what to say or how to react. "How did you know that?" He finally managed to blurt out feeling slightly aghast.  
  
Abe just grinned and shrugged his shoulders, feeling more at ease now that he had put Dr. Broom off balance, instead of the other way around.  
  
"What do you want from me?" Abe asked, feeling bolder and more confident though still slightly guardedly. "You will study, poke, prod and harass me like the rest of them? No doubt I will be better off here, apparently now alone, left to my own devices."  
  
Dr. Broom grinned in spite of himself, "Up until 5 minutes ago 'your own devices' included you being held unaware and unconscious in some sort of suspended animation, alone, defenceless, and for God knows how long. I'm offering you a more interesting, and hopefully more pleasant alternative then what I can surmise you've been through already. You may turn down the offer, it is just that, an offer, though I hope you will at least consider it."  
  
Now it was Abe's turn to be taken aback, both at the harshness of the reality check and the honesty behind the offer. He trusted this man, he couldn't help it, and he wanted more then anything to leave this God-forsaken lab, anything was better then here. Even a barren, waterless desert in the middle of a heat wave would be better then here.  
  
Abe nodded his head, once slowly as the whole idea of freedom donned on him, then again more confidently as he thought of all the possibilities of even partial freedom, even stretching space. Abe felt something click right then, an overwhelming need to grasp at any possibility that could lead him to getting away from his current life situation, which it turns out wasn't all that current.  
  
"What do I do?" Abe asked, feeling the sudden need to grasp this possibility right away, lest it fade away like so many of his dreams. The possibility of what could come to pass from this decision both frightened and invigorated Abe, making him feel slightly light headed, though that could also have been from the lack of oxygen in his tank. Either way, he was ready to embrace a whole range of possibilities, and couldn't wait to get started.

* * *

Well?  
  
Please let me know what you think!


	2. Trust

Just a minor update, thanks ShadowCat, Abe is no longer a magazine ;)

Enjoy

* * *

Abe swam languidly back and forth across the length of his new living quarters, just relishing his new found freedom and space. Three days now he'd been living at the B.P.R.D. and he hadn't slept since he'd arrived. Too many times it'd happened that he dreamt of freedom similar to this only to wake up to a shock, literally. He was afraid this was another of those dreams.

"Still awake I see," said Dr. Broom with a slight grin as he entered from the main door. "This isn't a dream, I assure you. It'll all still be here when you wake up, don't worry," he said, trying to sound reassuring as opposed to worried. Three days without sleep on top of the incredibly stressful activities of those three days couldn't possibly be health for the semi-aquatic being. It was the last thing Abraham Sapien needed, but there wasn't a great deal the Professor could do about it.

"It's happened before, it could happen again. If it is a dream, I'd rather not risk ruining it and just stay here rather then go back to reality," Abe replied, his words slurred slightly and he seemed to have trouble finding the right words in his exhaustion muddled mind. "And if it is reality," doubt echoed in his words, "then what will my dreams be of? And how will I tell them from reality, or know which is which?" He sounded almost frightened as he spoke the nonsense words. He paused in his 'pacing' of his new aquarium before muttering to himself, "I'd rather not find out."

He glanced guardedly at Dr. Broom, feeling very self conscious. It wasn't often that he shared his thoughts, feelings and dreams with another being, and he wasn't sure how he should, or the doctor would, react. When he looked at Dr. Broom he was very surprised at what he saw; compassion.

"I can't understand what you're going through as I haven't experienced what you have," Dr. Broom replied carefully, walking towards Abe who was now floating at floor level, both palms pressed on the glass. "I do understand however that you need to work through a hell of a lot, and I can't tell you how. I can only do my hest to help you in every way I can," Dr. Broom finished as he sat down on the chair of his desk, facing his patient.

He'd expected to have a few issues to have to work through with the latest addition to the Bureau, though things were not shaping up entirely as he'd expected. He'd hoped to earn Abe's trust quickly through having freed him, and therefore earn his confidence, and help him work through his issues. Instead the fish man had basically barricaded himself inside himself, talking very little, reacting very little, eating very little, and sleeping not at all. He displayed classic symptoms of depression, the opposite reaction Dr. Broom would have expected in this sort of situation, though he was no shrink.

Abe was staring at him, almost through him, his face impossible to read. "You really care," He muttered, seeming shocked. They'd played through this scenario before. It was as if Abe couldn't make himself believe what he felt from the professor, so he continued to test, sure he was going to find a flaw in the impossible disguise. Every time he found the professor to be true to his word he came a little closer to acceptance, though he still couldn't quite grasp it.

"Why?" he asked sounding distrustful, "Why should I believe you? You don't know anything!"Abe demanded of the professor, practically shouting, "Are you even real?" He changed abruptly to a whisper.

This was a new turn of events, and Dr. Broom was excited. Perhaps they would make some progress now, perhaps Abe was ready.

"Yes, I am real," He replied, " I can only tell you to follow what you feel. Your heart, what does it say? It seems to me you have quite an interesting trick there. Mind reading is a hard thing to fool I would gather, what does my mind tell you?"

Abe abruptly resumed his pacing, considering this piece of advise. His mind told him to be careful, his heart told him it seemed real, and Dr. Broom's mind told him he cared, though he had alternate motives as well, though none of them seemed intent on evil. An agent? He wanted Abe to become an agent? Interesting thought. But to trust him? He needed to know, once and for all, if he his compassion went more then skin deep. Abe went back to his vantage point, and placed his hands on the glace again.

"You care?" Dr. Broom nodded, "Would you like to see?" Abe asked, almost a whisper, his heart in his throat. To share a memory required reliving the memory; not a pleasant task. This was the deciding moment. If Dr. Broom said yes, he would see, and Abe would know that he cared. He would volunteer to put himself in Abe's shoes, how much more proof could he ask for? If he said no, well, Abe would deal with that as the situation as it came.

"You're scared. It's easier said then done isn't it? Understanding? You want to understand me? Prove it! Prove you care!" Abe was shouting now, his emotions running completely wild, it was almost more then he could handle, "Let me show you even a portion, a tiny portion of life for me, so you can understand! Please!" He wanted him to say yes, wanted him to care, he needed him to care! He wasn't challenging or demanding, he was pleading for someone to understand him.

Dr. Broom sat, totally taken off guard by the emotional outburst of the previously completely stoic man. The pleading tone was not lost on him. He knew Abe needed him to say yes as surely as Abe knew he was afraid. Of course he was afraid. He knew scientists could be cruel, even sadistic, and the thought of seeing first hand what they could do scared the life out of him. But he knew what he had to do.

As he stood up slowly and walked towards Abe, who was waiting eagerly, he could feel his chest tightening. He stopped a foot away from the front of the aquarium, looking Abe straight in the eye. "I'll do it. I care." He said, "What do I do?"

Abe was shaking, he felt if he were asleep in a dream, or pumped full of drugs and barely in touch with reality. He could barely believe what he was about to do, what it could mean. Was his freedom for real? Really?

"Put your hands over mine, and close your eyes"

Dr. Broom set his cane down on the floor and slowly put his hands over Abe's, not at all sure what was going to happen, and feeling incredibly apprehensive about it.

He closed his eyes, and concentrated. On what, he wasn't sure, but he concentrated. Slowly sensations began to come to him. He was floating. He smelt, or felt, or tasted the staleness of the water as it flowed through his gills. He opened his eyes in confusion, and lifted his arms in front of him, a gesture not dissimilar to that a person groping in the dark. He tried to focus on something in front of him, but the world seemed to swim about, refusing to focus. His hands met glass a mere foot in front of him, and he followed it around. The front of the tank was rounded, causing the outside world to be distorted, and the back was flat, presumably up against a wall.

He tried to focus on something, a thought, a movement on the other side of the glass, but he couldn't. His mind didn't seem able to hold on to anything for more then a second. He felt a sensation of dread building in the pit his stomach as he saw the shadows of movement and colour begin to congregate around him. He heard a hissing and gurgling, and noticed the water level drop, they were draining his tank. He knew what that meant. Tests.

He shrank into the back of the tank, a feeble gesture since he was only 3 or 4 inches away from it. As the water slid down the drain at the bottom of the tank, there was a sharp click as the glass panel of the front of his tank swung open. He felt hands reach out and take a firm grip of his upper arms and pull him out of the tiny comfort of his tank. He struggled weakly against the grip, his vision swirling and distorting in a most dizzying and distorting way, making it nearly impossible for him to make any sense of what he was seeing, not that it really mattered. He knew what was coming.

As he felt the first jab of a needle into his upper arm, all sensations faded into the distance. The dizzying world faded to blackness and the itching sensation spreading out from whatever was in the needle slowly dissipated.

Dr. Broom stumbled back from the glass, sitting down heavily in the chair behind him to catch his breath. He hadn't been prepared; how could he have been? He looked up at Abe, floating calmly a few feet back from the glass. The calm was deceptive however, underneath there was a storm of emotions ranging from fear to anger, sympathy to horror to self-loathing. Why had he done it? Why had he relived the horror himself, just to make someone else feel the same pain he had unnumberable times?

"I'm sorry..." He whispered to Dr. Broom as he swam to the dark reaches of his aquarium, hiding from the accusing stare of his rescuer.


	3. Acceptance

Hey everybody,

Thank-you so much for all the positive feedback, I really appreciate it. Getting encouragement from people who actually want to read your stuff is really awesome, thanks heaps! I hope you enjoy this next edition to my story, but I'm starting to get a little worried. With so much positive feedback, I've got a lfvot of people to worry about dissappointing! So please don't be dissappointed, and if you are, tell me why and I'll fix it! I'm hoping that before the end of Christmas Holidays I'll be able to do at least one more update, then back to the business of life that leaves so little time for enjoyment...sigh

Anyway, thanks again for your support, you all rock, and please enjoy the fruits of my labour,

Jewelz

* * *

Abe was hiding. He felt overwhelmingly guilty about what he'd done a few hours before, but at the same time, overwhelmingly afraid. He had no idea how the professor would react to his insight into his tormented life, and had no idea how to act around someone who had such insight into his life. A few moments after he'd shared his memory, he'd heard Dr. Broom leave the room; he'd wanted to give Abe some space. He wanted Abe to be comfortable, to have time to adjust to each new situation he was put it. He did care. 

What an amazing thing! The urge to throw caution to the wind and launch head long into his new life of freedom at this Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense was becoming harder to resist, the belief that it was all a dream or fantasy was fading into the background. As the dread of and falsehood on Dr. Broom's part faded, sleep began to tug at Abe's mind as he sat on the floor of his aquarium, hugging his knees to his chest. Surly it wasn't a dream. It had lasted to long, and if it was, well, it had been a very good dream. As his mind away from consciousness, his body relaxed, and he drifted off into a dark, dreamless, restful sleep, untroubled by any thought or image of his terrible past.

* * *

When Abe awoke, he felt a keen sense of wariness. He remembered clearly the past few days: The rescue, the days without sleep, the sharing of a piece of his past. This was the ultimate test. When he opened his eyes, would he be looking out into the library at the Bureau, or would he be looking through the warped and foggy glass of his prison in the hospital? He knew he had to do it; he had to open his eyes. He couldn't spend the rest of his life curled up inside himself, refusing to face reality. Tentatively he reached out with a hand, slowly, cautiously raising it in front of his face expecting at any moment to come into contact with the curved glass of his laboratory tank. He stretched his arm out completely, and felt a lurch of excitement in his stomach. His eyes flew open.

He was looking into the library at the Bureau, the golden light of the fire being reflected off the wood and ancient manuscripts, the shelves upon shelves of books reaching to the ceiling, the desk set off to the side. And at the desk sat Professor Broom, pouring over some book or another. Immediately a pang of guilt assaulted Abe, he'd caused the man a great deal of pain. He knew he had, he'd felt the same pain himself on dozens of occasions. Abe reached out with his mind, trying to get a reading on any strong feelings the professor might be experiencing. Irritation and annoyance? Abe probed further, looking for the cause of the professors discomfort; a four letter word for history? He paused for a moment to think. The Dr. Broom was obviously working on a word problem of some kind, and seemed to be having a great deal of trouble. Thinking the professor would appreciate the help, Abe screwed up his nerve, swam forward to where he'd be visible from the desk and spoke up.

"Would yore fit, Professor?" Abe asked quietly, not wanting to startle the man to badly.

Dr. Broom jumped slightly and glanced up in surprise, "Would my what fit where, sorry?" The professor asked, misunderstanding Abe's suggestion, caught completely off guard.

Abe smiled slightly, "A four letter word for history, sir," Abe explained politely, "yore perhaps?"

Still surprised, Dr. Broom glanced down to his newspaper, trying to hide his surprise and disconcertion with the futile gesture. A grin spread across his face as he realized he'd been handed the answer to the final hint of the day's crossword.

As the professor folded up the newspaper, Abe could feel his mind change tracks. No longer was he thinking about the frivolous crossword, now he was moving to business, serious business. To his surprise, Abe felt nothing of the anger or fear he expected after their last encounter; only a sense of compassion, that unchanging compassion. There was also a hint of wariness; Dr. Broom did not want to go through another episode of Abe's past, but would if it was necessary. That sense of determination touched Abe deeply. Someone was willing to go through that much to try to help him? Abe suddenly knew that Professor Broom was a man of justice, mercy, and that ever-present compassion. He had seen just a glimpse of the injustice of Abe's life, and now would do whatever he could to try to make up some of that, though he was in no way, shape, or form responsible for any of it.

"My thanks, Abe," Dr. Broom said with a nod, "Did you sleep well?"

Abe nodded, "How long did I sleep?"

"Two days," Dr. Broom replied with a wry smile. "I think it did you good. How are you feeling?"

Abe was taken aback. Two days? Dr. Broom was right though, he felt much better, he was thinking straight, and felt an overwhelming sense of excitement. He could finally accept that this was not a dream, it was reality, and he was free.

A smile lit Abe's amphibious face as he replied, "Fine, wonderful actually." He paused, looking around, "It's actually real. I'm actually free." To accentuate his point, Abe launched backward and did a quick summersault and figure eight, reveling in his space. After his momentary outburst of energy, Abe returned to his place hovering in front of Dr. Broom, feeling embarrassed at his childish display of happiness. If he could, he would have been blushing.

Dr. Broom chuckled at Abe's show of enthusiasm, glad to see such a change in the fish-man's mood. He'd been quite worried about the melancholy he seemed to have been caught in. Two days of sleep, and waking up to find himself still in possession of his freedom seemed to have cured him of his depression.

"You saved me," Abe said, his demeanor loosing the carefree childish quality, "You've proved that you really care." Abe paused, "I'm sorry that I needed that proof. I did need it though. I know you're not completely selfless in your quest to help me, either. You want to make an agent out of me."

Taken aback by the completely honest and straightforward testimony, Dr. Broom could only nod. Strangely, he was now the one feeling guilty. Abe was right; Dr. Broom did want to make him into an agent. Abe had shown great intelligence, and his other interesting abilities made all sorts of possibilities come to light.

"You need not feel guilty about anything," Abe replied to the unspoken feeling, "I owe my life to you. I'll happily become an agent for this Bureau of the Paranormal. It does seem rather fitting after all," he mused with a grin.

Dr. Broom was surprised at Abe's immediate agreement to his unspoken request. He'd been expecting some resistance, some convincing needed, but then, he supposed, Abe could probably pick most of the answers to most of his questions right out of his mind.

"I'm surprised at your eagerness to become an agent." Dr. Broom said, "I'd expected a few more hurtles to need jumping before we discussed it. But if you feel as strongly as all that, I suppose we should just get down to business. I'm painfully aware of your past history with tests and experiments," Dr. Broom continued carefully, watching Abe closely for any signs as to what he was thinking, "And I assure you that you'll have none of that hear. I do, however, need some idea of the extent your psychic abilities go, as well as your physical capabilities under and above water."

As Abe listened, he felt a ball of fear forming in his stomach. Tests. Dr. Broom was talking about tests. No, he was talking about training, Abe tried to explain to himself. Dr. Broom knew about his past, he said he understood, he'd never put him through any of that. He knew that, but he still felt the unreasonable fear, the dread.

Dr. Broom watched with apprehension as Abe drifted slowly to the back of the tank as he talked about needed information. He could see now that he'd been right earlier, there were going to be hurtles. He could just imagine the thoughts going around in his head: more tests, more needles, more experiments. He tried to think of some way he could convince him that he'd never go through that again. He thought, as loudly as he could in Abe's direction, that he'd be safe from scientists, that he'd only need to discuss it, and maybe demonstrate a few things.

"Don't worry, you won't be harmed, you just need to tell us about your abilities." The professor assured Abe out loud, "And demonstrate in a more controlled environment what you can do. We won't do anything without your consent, don't worry! You're safe here, you're free."

Abe nodded, he was free. He couldn't completely shake the feeling of being hoodwinked though, and even though he was being bombarded with feelings of safety from Dr. Broom, he couldn't help feeling slightly suspicious at the topic of his 'abilities'. No, he told himself, he'd trust Dr. Broom. If he were ever going to be free, truly free, he'd have to trust Dr. Broom. He nodded again, more to reassure himself then to convey his affirmation. He WOULD be free; he WOULD trust Dr. Broom; He WOULD live his life.


End file.
